Green Eyes
by Gragagagagagagaga
Summary: A Jaded 21 year old Sarah Williams discovers that she does not hold as much power as she was led to believe. Sex, violence, foul language, dark, badass Jareth, ooc Sarah.
1. Chapter 1

AN:This will be dark. There will be foul language, violence, an ooc Sarah, and incredibly passionate sex involving Jareth. If you don't enjoy any or all of these things, then don't read this. If you are looking for a fairy tale, then don't read this. However, if you are in the mood for something different.....you will probably enjoy this. Oh, and if you like your Jareth badass then you have come to the right place.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

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Sarah felt rage burning within her. She had been annoyed, ticked off, angry, and all out pissed as hell before. She was a college drop out working as a waitress in a themed kids' restaurant. Take up a job where you have to dress up like a blue hamburger and sing to a bunch of snotty four year olds, smart ass preteens, and their sex starved fathers and all of those emotions are a given. She spent 11-6, Monday through Friday mired deep in one or all of them. However, it took only four little words to take her from her almost constant state of annoyance to a positively blinding rage.

"It was the goblins!" She looked from little Toby (who had strings of chocolate sauce hanging from his tawny hair and whipped cream in between his toes), to the refrigerator (which was dripping with a disgusting mixture of pickle juice, leftover alfredo, pepsi, and grape juice), to the floor (which was covered in skid marks and a disgusting mess of food. In order to contain herself she looked toward the one place which she hoped against hope would have just _had_ to be clean: the ceiling. Not only was it splattered with ketchup, but knives, forks, and Karen's disgusting and excessively expensive high chi diet green tea bricks all stuck to both the ceiling and the ceiling fan.

Sarah closed her eyes. Perhaps if she denied it hard enough she would open her eyes and the kitchen would be clean. Perhaps if she just walked out and came back in a few minutes she would discover that she was having some sort of stress induced hallucination.

Yes. That sounded perfect.

She was halfway out the door when the little bastard had the _nerve _to say it again.

"It was the goblins Sarah! I swear!"

In a second he was being held up by the collar of his shirt, his little feet dangling in the air as sundae toppings dripped from them and added to the indescribable soup the kitchen floor had become.

"They wanted to play and they said it wouldn't be that bad and they said that we could clean it up in time and Frig and Norn brought all of the other ones and I couldn't-"

"_Toby_." She growled as she dropped him to the floor and he landed with a loud splash in melted ice cream against linoleum. "_Shut up._"

The child's lips quivered as he made one last ditch effort to explain himself. Sarah didn't hear a word of it. All she heard was the same sob story he used Every. Single. Time. he did something entirely ridiculous or stupid.

"SHUT UP!" She screamed. "Toby, you cannot keep doing this! Goblins are not real! They don't just show up throw hammers through car windows, leave toys on the stairs, pour soda in the television, or destroy fucking kitchens and then pop back to fucking _Goblin Land _like its all well and fucking good! And do you know _why_? THEY DON'T EXIST!"

Toby began to cry.

"You can't keep doing these things and blaming it on goblins! You are getting too old! Do you know what they are going to do to you if you don't cut the shit Toby? They are going to say that you are bi-polar, delusional, or all out retarded! They are going to put you on drugs, give you tests where doctors cut open your head! They are going to lock you away…" She regained herself upon seeing the tears pouring down her eight year old brother's face. It was then that the guilt set in.

"Toby…" She tried quietly and when he flinched away a knife went straight through her heart.

She had never seen such a betrayed look on the boy's face in her entire life. She reached toward him and he raced up the stairs, tracking chocolate sauce and walnuts behind him.

"Fantastic." Sarah muttered hollowly as she thought of him tracking it all over Karen's freshly steamed carpet. Karen was going to have a shit fit. She guessed that she better start cleaning it up, even though she knew that there wasn't a chance in hell she'd be able to have it done by the time her parents got back. She figured it couldn't hurt to have a smoke first.

She kicked her feet up on the one clean corner of the table and quickly lit up. She hissed in pleasure as she hollowed her cheeks and inhaled.

She was so lost in her brief moment of bliss that she didn't notice a single peach fall from the fruit drawer of the open fridge and dexterously roll through the wrecked floor, only to stop directly before her.

"God this sucks." She groaned as she finished her cigarette and tossed it unceremoniously onto the floor. Karen didn't allow her to smoke in the house, but Sarah figured that it didn't really matter. After all, it would end up in the same place as the rest of the mess anyway. She put her feet down on the floor only to step directly on the peach an inadvertently squish about half of it. She picked it up and threw it against the opposite wall, where it actually dented it. Sarah decided to smoke another cigarette or four before starting. God knows she needed it.

It turned out that Sarah had finished an entire pack before she actually even considered cleaning. Cigarettes littered the floor and the smell of smoke mixed with the already putrid scent of assorted rotting and drying foods was almost making her nauseous. It was 10:30 by the time she ever considered cleaning anything. She had just knelt down on the floor with a rag and a bucket and started wiping up a particularly nasty grape juice stain when she heard the lock click open.

"Sarah, honey!" she heard her father call from the parlor. "Sarah?" He called and Sarah prepared herself for the explosion.

"In the kitchen." She called back flatly as she dipped the rag back in the bucket. The closer their footsteps drew the more tense she became. She could hear Karen chatting incessantly and her heart dropped into her stomach when that chatter abruptly stopped and became indignant squawks.

"Sarah, what the hell happened?" She knew that the anger would come later and was thankful that at the moment her father was too shocked to scream.

"Toby was _playing_ with the goblins again." She grunted dryly and continued to wash.

"Excuse me?" Karen asked and Sarah wondered if her father hadn't mentioned Toby's obsession with goblins to her as the concept of imagination was entirely foreign to the woman.

"Toby was _playing_ with the goblins again." She repeated and it was then that she noticed the horrified look in her father's eyes.

"Sarah," He said slowly. "Who's Toby?"


	2. Chapter 2

Sarah's eyes widened impossibly as she looked up at her positively confounded parents.

"What?" She barely breathed as her father's confusion began to morph into anger.

"Sarah," He hissed. "What the hell are you talking about?"

She blinked.

"Who's Toby?" Karen asked as she quickly stepped back out of the room and looked despairingly at her stained high heels.

As Sarah looked back and forth between her father and step mother it dawned upon her that, for reasons she would not even dare to begin to contemplate, neither of the people before her remembered their son. She was not about to argue with them, and the way she saw it she had two options.

1) Lie to get herself in trouble and take total blame.

2) Lie to get herself in trouble and guilt them out of blaming her fully.

Tears quickly formed in her eyes and began to pour down her face. "It's just that Roman actually had the nerve to _fucking_ _**touch**_ me today, this kid threw up on me, I nearly got in an accident…" Lies, half-truths, and some things that were even completely accurate poured from her mouth in a whirlwind of pity. By the end she was actually hyperventilating and her parents' anger had been replaced with fear.

Well, being considered crazy is better than being considered an asshole, right?

Suddenly she felt hands on her shoulder and looked up to see her father looking at her. He looked utterly terrified. "Hon, why don't you just…just go upstairs and shower." He said stiffly and Sarah looked up at him through eyelashes clumped with tears. She nodded and sniffed before racing up the stairs.

As the sound of her footsteps faded Karen turned and looked at her husband. Her feather lined shrug, which she swore looked romantic and everyone else swore made her look like big bird, started to shed and feathers mingled with the cigarette butts and food on the floor.

"I always said that she would crack one day." Karen said as she put her hands on her hips.

Robert only stared at the floor.

"Ever since that incident when she was fifteen when she-"

"Sarah's not cracking Karen." He insisted and Karen snorted derisively. "She's just under a lot of stress-"

"The girl's not right, Robert. Never has been." She said and walked out of the kitchen. "Do something about this. It's disgusting." She ordered through a yawn before disappearing. Robert put his head in his hands.

Sarah ran into the bathroom and flung open the cabinets to find that, to her horror, Toby's little green toothbrush and kid friendly toothpaste were gone. With a pained gasp she tore out of the bathroom and quickly padded down the hallway to where she knew Toby's room to be. Her heart stopped as her hand reached the knob. She couldn't bring herself to open it.

"Sarah?" She jumped as an almost shrill voice broke her trance. She looked in its direction to find Karen standing in the hall wearing a bright pink robe. Her fire engine red hair was tied back and some sort of thick brown scrub covered her entire face. Karen rolled her eyes. "You've been standing outside of my sewing room staring at the doorknob for five minutes. Do you need something?"

Sarah blinked. Despite having never even touched a sewing machine, Karen had been ranting and raving about converting her bedroom into a sewing room for years. The woman seemed to be waiting on baited breath for her to leave. However, Sarah knew very well that the room she was standing in front of was Toby's.

"Sewing…room?" She squeaked and Karen brusquely jostled her aside and opened the door. She started to say something, but Sarah didn't hear her. Where she remembered her little brother's bed being, there was a table covered with neatly folded fabric and where his toy chest had been there was a rack of pastel colored clothes. The room was dominated by chests filled neatly with sewing paraphernalia and racks of half-finished clothing. Sarah watched, wide eyed, as one of the chests opened and from its depths, out rolled a large crystal ball. Twilight hues of light fluctuated within it. It was beautiful and ethereal and where it touched the carpet seemed to come alive like a fantastic wood and whisper things of dreams.

Karen's hand clamped around her shoulder.

The ball rolled with purpose toward her feet only to gently stop once it came in contact with her toes. Where the glass touched it sent sparks of searing fire shooting through her skin. Sarah screamed.

The light was abruptly turned on and Karen began to curse vehemently. "Now look! You've bled all over my pin cushion! Destroying one room just wasn't enough for you…" Sarah heard nothing as she looked down to find a pincushion in the shape of a giant strawberry lying before her feet. The crystal had disappeared and the chest it had fallen from was unobtrusively closed. There were shallow gashes in her foot where pins that had been clumsily stuck in had stabbed her.

"I think I'll just go to bed now." Sarah muttered, her face white and her green eyes wide as she left Karen standing open-mouthed at the door, in mid tirade. The woman stared distastefully at the trail of blood her step daughter left behind her.

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chichi89: Updated fast as I could.

JayPoe25: Thank you kindly!

Aysuh: Thanks, as predictable is what I'm really trying to avoid I'm glad that you didn't see the ending coming. Also, glad you are feeling my Sarah. I had this weird feeling that I was going to get told off for changing her so much from the norm.

AN: Thanks for the reviews. Three reviews a chapter is a pretty rare occurence for me, so it really made my day. I hope you all enjoyed.


	3. Chapter 3

_I've never had any fun _

_wish somebody would find me some _

_I'm just a sad burger_

_der der dee der dum _

_Nobody likes me _

_they all laugh at me _

_I am a big blue burger _

_and you can't have any fun either _

der der dee der dum

While Sarah had realized long ago that fifty percent of the population was below average and was rarely shocked by stupidity, the absolute horror of the rap which was "Imogene The Sad Blue Burger" was never lost on her. Every time she sang it something in her came a little closer to death. The constant booing and occasional drink or chicken finger thrown at her by some rowdy little bastard hardly bothered her any more. It was just the horrible lyrics. The fact that she couldn't rap for shit didn't matter, as half of the time the audience started booing so loudly at the sight of her that her song was inaudible.

She finished her songs and spins with the proper amount of lethargic melancholy, and kept her façade even as she caught several of the men in the audience checking out her ass through her blue tights. The Saturday crowd was always the worst, as more fathers came in the hopes of silencing their bratty little children and couldn't use work as an excuse.

She finished her song with the appropriate fake sobs and dashed off of the stage. She breathed a sigh of relief as she slipped off the foul smelling blue burger costume. Thankfully she only had two songs in the entire show. She quickly pulled a pair of sweatpants over her tights and sprayed herself liberally with body spray before heading out to the back lot for a smoke. Technically her lunch hour didn't start for another fifteen minutes, but she knew Roman wouldn't care. After all, people weren't exactly lining up for her job. If he fired her, he would have to play Imogene the Sad Blue Burger and there was no way in hell he would.

She quickly circumvented the line waiting to get in and skipped around back, to find it blissfully unoccupied. She stared into the peaceful park, where she had spent much of her childhood, across the street as she tried to no avail to light her cigarette. Her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

"Need a light?" She turned to see a rather unattractive man holding out a lighter proudly displaying a flame. Sarah really wanted to tell him off, as she could tell by looking at him that not only was he convinced that he was some sort of sex god, but he wanted to give her a good bit more than a light.

"Thanks." She said flatly and quickly began to inhale. She really hoped that the trollish man, who looked old enough to be her father, would leave her in peace, but he seemed to have other plans.

"So how does a beautiful girl like you end up in a place like this?"

Sarah nearly winced. He was obviously a smooth one.

"She needs to pay for her AIDS meds and this is the only job she could get without any sort of degree that pays enough."

In truth, she didn't have AIDS and the job paid absolute crap, but at least the troll seemed to take the hint and he left her alone. Where he went, she didn't care. She leaned against the brick wall and groaned as her tense body finally relaxed.

She was reaching for another when suddenly loud angry squawking sounded from across the way. She looked and saw what appeared to be a white bird sitting on a branch. As she reached for another it let out a shrill scream.

"What are you, my mother?" She called out at the obnoxious animal and she swore that the thing shook its head 'no'. It was only then that she recognized the creature as an owl. As she drew to the edge of the parking lot, the tips of her toes touching the street, she beheld its mismatched eyes and that was when it all started to click in her mind.

Toby. The crystal ball. The owl. Nobody seemed to remember him.

"Goblin King!" She howled and ran across the semi-busy street, only to cause one car to swerve off into the parking lot and crash into an old sign for the pizza parlor that had once been there. The driver screamed at her as she climbed up into the tree after the owl, chasing it as it hopped from branch to higher branch.

"You bastard!" She cried as she tried to grab the owl, only to have it dig one of its talons into her hand. "You fucker! Bring Toby back!" She howled. Unbeknownst to Sarah, a small crowd had gathered around the tree.

"Give me my life back!" She cried. The branches grew thinner and thinner as she went and it was not long until she stepped on one that could not hold her weight. It snapped and she fell to the ground. Multiple branches hit her in the head as she fell. All she could see was the owl's sneering mismatched eyes as she fell to ground with a sickening crack and fell unconscious.

"Roman!" One of the waiters cried as sprinted into his boss' office to find him sound asleep. He awoke with a jolt and glared at his employee. "I'm sorry, but Sarah has just--"

"Who did she assault now?" The man asked tepidly as he smoothed down his comb over. "You would think she came to work in a pair of crotchless panties and stilettos the way these men always fall over her."

The waiter did not point out that Roman had even tried to get in her pants when she first started working there. "Well ,this time, it was an owl." He said and Roman's eyes widened. "She ran into the middle of the road screaming about 'Toby' and some 'Goblin King', caused an accident, and then chased an owl up into a tree and tried to kill it. She fell out of the tree and got knocked out."

Roman squared his shoulders and marched out of the building. He immediately dialed for an ambulance. Once Sarah had left in that ambulance, he hoped to never see her again.

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a and n: Thanks very much to the both of you. And your guess is incorrect.

chichi89: Crazy is how I roll. WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Kris. There will almost definitely be explosions. I love a good explosion every now and again. As far as dancing, well, it really depends on your definition of _dance. _lol.

Aysuh: Sorry, but a lot of short chapters are just my style. There might be a longer one here or there, but I don't think I've ever written a chapter longer than 2000 words.


	4. Chapter 4

_His wide child eyes were full of tears as he flung himself on top of his bed and buried his head in his pillow. His chest heaved with uneven breaths as he sobbed. _

_"Why does no one believe me?" He cried and suddenly a small and portly creature with blue hued skin and a bulbous nose appeared on the bed beside him. _

_"Most of 'em can't see the likes ov us, Toby." The creature said and Toby turned to face it. _

_"But why Frig? I just don't understand." _

_The Frig looked pained, as if there were something he was dying to say, but some form of Goblin sense forbid him. _

_"It don't have to be this way, yuh know." He said and Toby shook his head. _

_"Yes it does. How else can it be? And now Sarah's gonna get in trouble for a mess that you all made!" Toby curled up, placed head on his knees, and stared miserably away from his friend. _

_"I know that we've asked yuh before an' yuh said no, but just think on it." Frig said after a while. "Yuh know the words." He said and disappeared with a pop. _

_Anger swirled and swirled in Toby's heart until at last, with a cry, he began to shout the fateful words… _

"No! Don't Toby! The Goblin King will-"

"She has been screaming things such as this in her sleep for the past several nights. While she seems aware enough upon waking, every time she awakes it takes a longer and longer period time to remind her of where she is and the reality of her situation." Dr. Palmer said with the appropriate degree of gravity to the William's family. They had come every day for the past few days and Dr. Palmer knew that this would soon pass. Once they got used to the idea of their daughter being a lunatic they would probably stop visiting altogether.

_"Come with us Toby." The Goblins called. They stood around his bed in a tight circle, reaching for him and beckoning to him with misshapen fingers. _

"Do you know what's wrong with her doctor?" Mr. Williams asked. He was genuinely concerned, while it was obvious that his wife could not have possibly cared less.

"All of her tests point to her being perfectly normal. With physical triggers ruled out it is either chemical or in response to something traumatic. There is no history of mental illness in your family correct?"

"I'm not related." Karen bragged with a grin and the doctor ignored her completely.

"Not on my end. I'll have to check with Linda." Mr. Williams said.

_"Forget about Sarah." The Goblins chanted in chorus. _

_"But, I can't." Toby pouted and the goblins snickered. _

_"She's just a bitch. Another one who doesn't believe you. Forget about her." The Goblins cackled and Toby nodded in agreement. _

"I'm so sorry Toby." Sarah sobbed in her sleep and her father bit his lip as he looked at her through the glass.

"And we can't go in?" He asked quietly.

"I'm sorry, but she's very volatile at the moment. A few hours ago she tried to claw one of the nurse's eyes out."

Mr. Williams winced. "I need to use the restroom." He said tightly and stalked away with his head in his hands.

_Cruel laughter hit her like a physical blow and vibrated slowly across every last inch of her skin._

Sarah moaned.

_The sudden memory of where and whom it originated from sent her writhing in fear and disgust. She was no longer a child. None of this was real. He wasn't real._

Her body thrashed and began to thrust against the bed in vain after imagined friction.

"You know, she's never been quite right." Dr. Palmer chose to examine his clipboard as an excuse not to look directly at the woman.

"Really?" He asked with a polite amount of interest.

"Oh yes. She had always been a very childish, but sweet girl. Until she was about fifteen or sixteen she kept every teddy bear she had ever received and would go out dressed in strange costumes and read fairy tales to our old dog."

Now Dr. Palmer was interested.

"Then one day, out of the blue, she threw out all of her toys, costumes, and books out. We thought she was finally growing up--that was--until she started failing classes, talking back, and doing god knows what else. She had a new boyfriend every week. Barely passed high school and didn't even last a year at community college. The girl smokes like a chimney. Not to mention, she has this book that she keeps under lock and key and if anyone so much as touches it she loses her mind-"

"Which book?"

"Oh, I'm not sure. I actually haven't even seen it in years. When she was 17 or so I found it on her dresser and went to open it and she screamed at me-"

"Karen," The woman looked behind her to find him looking distressed and flushed. "We should get going." He said and she flashed the doctor a grin before following Robert out of the sanitarium.

Dr. Palmer shook his head sadly as he returned to his patient. He readied his clip board to take down notes and sat in a nearby chair. As he pulled his pen from behind his ear he saw a small red book cradled against her torso. It's gold letters caught the light.

"The Labyrinth?" He read aloud and in that instant the book disappeared.

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a and n: Nope. Lol. You'll find out soon enough.

TheBlackxRabbit: That's what I'm going for. Thanks for the review!

chichi89: Thank you kindly!

CoffeeKris: Your wish for dance shall be fulfilled! *does some sort of genie dance and disappears into a lamp*

Misplaced Soul: He'll be showing up in the next few chapters. And trust me, he'll make an exceedingly grand entrance. ;)


	5. Chapter 5

Sarah groaned miserably as she tapped her naked feet against the carpeted floor. She had thrown them against the wall in a fit of rage (after all, when in Rome…) leaving one laying against the opposite wall and one laying in an uncertain location as she had accidentally tossed it out of the window. While she had broken the window she didn't give a damn.

She had been tossed in the nut house against her will, had been subjected to all sorts of degrading tests, had been sedated twice, hadn't been allowed to smoke, and had been sitting in a room waiting for her first therapy session for almost a half an hour. She hoped that Dr. Palmer was dead, as that was the only excuse she would consider forgiving him for making her wait so long. However, she was grateful for the time alone. While she didn't know how it happened, as she was always either at some sort of supervised activity or being prodded by the nurses--she was eternally grateful. She didn't know whether to be relieved or unhappy when Dr. Palmer finally chose to make his grand entrance.

"I'm sorry I'm late. I-"

"Don't care." Sarah announced with a sigh as her leg started to twitch madly. She decided that she would give him absolutely nothing to work with. She vowed to remove any sort of emotion from her speech and face, while Dr. Palmer not only saw her efforts but saw keenly through them.

"Ah, you don't subject yourself to niceties then?"

"Fuck no." She replied and as she crossed her arms wondered if she had aged mentally past fifteen or sixteen.

"And why not?"

"It's a fucking waste of time." She growled and only got even angrier at herself for showing her anger. "As nice as people pretend to be, no one really gives a fuck."

"So, would you rather I get right down to it instead of pussyfooting around?"

"I would rather that you go fuck yourself!" She snarled and Palmer inwardly rolled his eyes. She seemed to be another textbook case. Her deadbeat mother and father's remarriage to the shrew had made her feel unloved, unwanted, and helpless. She simultaneously pined for the illusion of love and control elsewhere and hated herself for being needy. He thought he'd be done with her in a few months.

"Tell me about Toby." He said and watched as Sarah paled.

She recovered quickly. "Who?"

"You cry about him every night in your sleep and you yelled at that owl for stealing him when you chased it up the tree. Even if now you recognize that he is not real, who did you think he was-"

"He's not fucking real. Now let me go home!"

Dr. Palmer sighed. He knew that had to keep her off balance in order to stop her from walling up completely. "May I hypnotize you?" He asked quickly.

"What?"

"You heard me."

"That's bullshit. It doesn't work."

"Then what's the harm?"

Sarah glared at him as he took a pencil out of his pocket and began to tap it against the arm of the sofa he sat on.

"Pay attention closely." He said after a little while and assumed that it was alright to start after all anger dissipated from her face. He observed silently that she looked almost angelic as she folded her hands serenely in her lap.

"What is your name?" He asked and watched as Sarah's lips parted.

"Sarah Delilah Williams." Her voice sounded calm and clear. Dr. Palmer continued with a grin. That was the first time she had spoken a sentence without the word fuck in it since he had met her.

"What color are your eyes?"

"Green."

"Where are you right now?"

"I am…" She began calmly but her voice abruptly wavered and a confused crease formed between her eyebrows. "I am…."

Dr. Palmer watched as Sarah's mouth gaped in silent horror, her jaw cracking and her nails bit through her palms.

"Jareth..." She gasped.

* * *

CoffeeKris: Not even Dane Cook likes Karen. And trust me. He's coming.

a and n: Well, at least you get milk that way.

mslady17: Yeah, it's probably better I don't ruin it for you. Honestly, since I write as I go I'm not totally sure how this will end anyway.

TheBlackxRabbit: Maybe she really is crazy……

Misplaced Soul: Wow! I only just saw it for the first time last month. It was actually made about five or ten years before I was born so it's actually before my time.


	6. Chapter 6

In the gilded ballroom of her childhood handsome men in mysterious masks led beautiful sibylline women about the floor. Their cloth was shimmering and grandiloquent and their eyes sparkled with happy mischief like the gems embedded in their raiment. They were graceful and fair with silk for hair. The entire room, down the smallest candle flame burning on the most inconspicuous little wick seemed to shimmer. There was magic in the very air. It had intoxicated her long before he had taken hold of…

_Oh my god. _

Sarah looked around and wished that she had never opened her eyes. The atmosphere was sickly and the candles gave off cold light. The dance floor beneath her feet was a swamp reminiscent of a sewer and broken bones poked through the muck. Sarah looked down to find that her bare feet were not visible through the bile-like sludge.

Where there had once been proud men preening like peacocks as they held their partners were mere ghosts. The inner workings of their bodies could be seen clearly through their skin. Glowing red were their arteries and veins. Their hearts all beat together, out of time from the music which seemed to be eeking from a thousand broken record players hiding within the crumbling brick walls. Their movements were sluggish and there was not one grin amongst them. Their skeletal hands, which glowed beneath an incorporeal layer of skin meshed and groaned as they moved, trapped in a hellish dance.

They moved closer.

Sarah tried to back away, but ended up falling into the muck and slicing her hand on what appeared to be a human pelvis that was almost half her height. The masqueraders glided across the murk, their masks held aloft, revealing beautiful faces attached to their grotesque bodies. Their faces appeared to be hefted onto their grey flesh by a mere set of golden pins. There was no telling glow of red arteries to them, nor any movement. The eyes appeared to be made of glass. They encircled her and held out their masks above her. Pointed noses, hollowed out eyes, and strange decorations were pressed against her skin. They Tingled oddly wherever they touched. The expressionless masqueraders watched.

To Sarah's horror she felt teeth grazing against her thigh and looked to see a bluish one eyed mask with a painted on nose pulling at the fine hairs there, on her innermost thigh, with yellowed teeth.

"Stop!" She cried as she looked at the pinned on faces of the masqueraders. They were still as granite, encircling her like a cage as her vision was obstructed by ever more masks. Masks which bit at her. Licked her. Suckled at her. _Made her scream. _

The music played on.

The masks wormed their way beneath her flimsy hospital shift and beneath her skin. They ripped her dress apart and wound themselves in her hair. Their tongues spread her wide and nibbled cruelly at every sensitive part of her, drawing blood. Through her haze of fear and spiraling pleasure she slowly came to register a loud _Clink. Clink. Clink. _

The masks scattered and a lone pair of slender hands started to move within her. The material of the gloves provided a singular and almost painful sensation as they roughly stroked and pinched her. Sarah splashed haplessly in the filth below her which stained her face and white breasts a sickly viridian.

A knowing "Ah." was heard and suddenly Sarah felt something cold and oddly shaped being slowly pulled from within her. It slowly slid past her lips and into the waiting hands which remained spotlessly clean. The hands then crawled across her whorishly spread legs and across her abdomen. It was as they moved seamlessly across her abdomen that Sarah again heard the _Clink. Clink. Clink._ _Clink. Clink. Clink._ _Clink. Clink. Clink._

_Clink._ The hands came to a stop and Sarah suddenly felt a pain unlike anything she had ever felt before. The sounds off rusty unoiled hinges sounded from throughout the slowly crumbling chamber and Sarah watched as what appeared to be the door of a bronze cage swung open from where her stomach had been only moments ago. She grazed shaking hands along her sides to find that, indeed, her mid section from just below her breasts to her hips had been replaced with a corset shaped cage. The hands attempted to plunge inside only to have the cage cruelly snap shut on them. She screamed as the hand pulled and beat at the unmoving bars of the cage, agony causing inky aberrations to curl themselves about the edges of her vision.

"Isn't. It. Just. _Un_be**lievable**?"

Those slender hands were now connected to a body. A lithe body connected to a beautiful face.

"Ssh." He said darkly as he slid one gloved finger between his lips, leaving them parted just enough to allow her to see the long and almost pointed tongue which curled about his finger, savoring her taste.

Sarah moaned. Mismatched eyes regarded her with disgust as The Goblin King rose only to sit a short distance away on what was apparently air.

"Drown the dirty bitch." He said casually before materializing a crystal in one of his casually splayed hands. Sarah screamed as the masqueraders threw their masks aside in unison and set upon her.

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A and N: Yes, and who doesn't like milk? Thanks!

Aysuh: Thank you kindly!

LJ4wat: I haven't really decided yet honestly. You'll find out not long after I do. Lol.

Misplaced Soul: My muse, much like David Bowie, will suddenly find the atmosphere asphyxiating and randomly run off to Kenya on me and not come back for eons. Trust me, I'm rooting for her too. ^^

AN: I am depressed. Not only did a 13 year old girl write a book ,but it's better than anything I could ever do, and almost anything modern that I have ever read . If there is a god, he is a cruel fucking bastard ladies and gentlemen.


	7. Chapter 7

If anything Robert Williams had been a good father. Perhaps he had been a bit doting and overly-indulgent when it came to his daughters wants, but he had been nothing but kind and caring. He could count the times he had spanked her for outrageous misbehavior on one hand. He did not understand where it had all went wrong. She had seemed to happily glide through his divorce and remarriage to Karen. While she and Karen had never been best friends, he could count the number of times they had fought on the other hand. He just didn't understand, and Karen didn't seemed to care enough to even attempt to understand. She just seemed thrilled to have the house to themselves.

He had been putting off this call for over a week. Not only did he still find talking Linda awkward and unpleasant, but he had a sinking feeling that she would show the same amount of interest and concern as his current wife. In over a decade, she hadn't even bothered to send her daughter a birthday card. She had simply been whisked away in the arms of a beautiful actor, thrown Sarah back at him, and disappeared. They had only talked on the phone twice; when Sarah had run away at the age of seventeen and when she had graduated high-school at age nineteen. Linda was unsurprisingly apathetic on both accounts.

He dialed the number and listened to the phone as it rang. Every time he called a different man with a different accent answered the phone. He wished that Linda would answer her own damn phone. He did not enjoy talking to her boyfriends.

"Yeah?" Robert rolled his eyes as a male with a thick Russian accent answered the phone. He believed the last time a Scotsman had answered the phone. However, this new one did not sound nearly as polite.

"Is Linda Archer there?" He asked and the man sounded momentarily confused. Robert rolled his eyes.

_Let me guess. She's changed her name again. _

"DeLorian!" The man called and Robert heard a series of yells in a mangled half-English-half-Russian. He fought not to bang his head against the wall.

_DeLorian? Is she serious. _He knew that she had changed her name multiple times over the years in an effort to kick into life a career that just wouldn't really go where she wanted. However, the name DeLorian was by far her most ridiculous creation.

"DeLorian Marx." She finally said into the phone almost professionally. Robert could hear her blowing out smoke.

"It's Robert Williams." He said and her professional air deflated.

"Yeah?" She said almost petulantly. She sounded remarkably like her young daughter.

"We had to put Sarah in an asylum." He said in a small voice and thick silence stretched out for a few uncomfortable minutes.

"How unfortunate." Linda said half-heartedly and Robert felt a raging tempest of rage and despair surge through him.

"I thought that you should know." He said and his voice broke as tears escaped him. Linda heard this and softened. She knew that she had to change the subject or else he might have a full breakdown.

"So, how's Tommy doing?" She asked in an effort to distract him. However, his reaction was entirely unexpected. His sobbing stopped abruptly. The tension was so strong that it seemed to creep against her skin.

"D-do you mean Toby?" Robert asked as his eyes widened almost comically.

"Yes! That's the little guy's name. I hope he's alright."

Robert dropped the phone. Something sinister was going on. He heard Linda calling for him as the phone rested against the carpet, but he could not pick it up.

"L-L-Linda," He stammered eventually. He remembered that Sarah had said something about Toby being her little brother. "What do you remember about Toby?" He asked and he could tell that Linda was confused.

"Er, not much. Just that he was Karen's and that Sarah was really protective of him. I have that picture of them you sent me one year…" The sound of rummaging was heard and Robert's heart hammered in his throat as if it were about to break free. "Hmm, that's strange. No Toby." She said as she looked at the picture.

"Linda," Robert whispered. He was not certain how he knew the words which fell from his lips. He did not remember discussing this with Karen, however they must have at one point. "Karen cannot have children, she's infertile."

"Well, than I must be thinking of someone else with a son named Toby. After all--I have met a lot of people in Hollywood with-"

"The main reason Sarah has been sent to an asylum is because she too, remembers-"

"Oh god!" Was the last thing Robert heard before the line went dead. He called for Linda over and over again only to come to the realization that she had hung up on him.

"GOD DAMMIT!" He cried as he stormed out of the bedroom and down the stairs. He could see Karen's head over the top of the sofa and was intent on just storming out into the night to think when she interrupted him.

"Robert, come here." She called from the living room and Robert grudgingly entered. She was knitting while watching reruns of old sitcoms. He stood before her as she kept one eye on him and one eye on the television. "Who were you talking to?" She asked, even though it was obvious that she damn well knew who he had been talking to.

"Karen, have you ever had any children?" He asked quickly and watched as confusion and then annoyance sparked in her eyes, almost as if someone had fed her an answer. Robert watched in horror as a shimmering crystal sphere of fair size fell from the mass of knitted yarn in her lap and rolled across the floor towards his feet.

"No, you know I can't have children Robert." She said but he hardly heard her as he reached toward the crystal, mesmerized, only to jerk back in pain as it sliced through his hand. He screamed and Karen jumped three feet in the air.

"Robert!" She cried as she looked at his bleeding hand. "How on earth did you manage to cut yourself on knitting needles?"

Robert stepped back and saw that where the sphere had been there was a ball of yarn with knitting needles sticking out of it at inopportune angles.

"Something terrible is happening." He said darkly before storming out of the house, barefoot and with a bloody hand. Karen rolled her eyes before changing the channel. All of the Williams' were so overdramatic. It was just a cut!

---

Linda's hand shook as she held the picture which used to show a smiling Sarah bouncing a jubilant toddler on her lap. In the one she currently held, her grinning daughter sat alone.

"DeLorian, what did that prick say to you?"

Linda looked up as her latest boyfriend stood in the doorway of their small apartment with a lit cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He was tall and thin with a smoker's yellow teeth and an ever largening bald spot on the top of his head.

"Nothing," She replied and abruptly threw the offending picture into the trashcan. If Sarah wished the brat away that was her problem. Linda had already had enough of the Goblin King for a lifetime.

* * *

TheBlackxRabbit: Thank you so much!

CoffeeKris: Muses are mercurial creatures. I hope your new one works it out.

LJ4wat: thanks! This is actually my first real crack at imagery. My other fics are straightforward…ish. lol

saingirl101: Me too! I honestly haven't found a fic where he's a legit (sexy) bastard yet so I figured I would try something different.

Misplaced Soul: If you think Jareth's really evil now….just wait…I've got some plans for our illustrious goblin king… MWHAHAHAHA….ha….. Thanks!

A and N: Where does N keep going?

princess marrosa: Thanks a lot!

Aysuh: Awesome. Thank you so much. It only gets crazier, stranger, and creepier from here on out.

S.R. Devaste: I haven't decided yet. You'll know not long after I do.

AN: Thanks so much for all of the reviews! I've never gotten such a good response from my readers before.


	8. Chapter 8

He could tell that he was being watched. That tell tale tingling between his shoulder blades was enough. Their father expected hm to want to exact some type of revenge. And honestly, Lot could not blame him. He was truthfully beyond enraged. If Jareth did not wake soon he would cease to be so patient. He would be out for blood.

The newly appointed goblin king muttered obscenities to himself in every language known to man (and several that were not) as he stalked out of the austere dining hall, kicking goblins as he went. He had tried to redecorate the place to make it look more homely and less like a prison, but all of his work had been a consummate failure. The wretched goblins, much like small children, managed to somehow destroy everything they touched. He freshly materialized tapestries were quickly turned into slides and clothes and the beautiful ornaments he had attempted to set the table in the dining hall with turned into betting chips for their bizarre gambling games and weapons. To him it seemed that the only thing the goblins enjoyed more than being a nuisance to everyone else was annoying one another. He didn't understand how Jareth had put up with it for the past three thousand years when only mere weeks had him ready to rip his own hair out.

Lot too was fey. He was statuesque and inhumanly striking. His features were somewhat androgynous and while he did bare a certain resemblance to his older brother he was far more polished. While Jareth let his wild hair unbound in a way the other fey deemed ridiculous, dressed in a way that they deemed improper, spoke in a way they found disrespectful, engaged in numerous affairs with mortals (which some found utterly despicable), ruled over a kingdom they found vile, and did it all with an expression that said "The absolute last thing I give a damn about is your opinion" Lot was an entirely different kind of creature. He had strived to be accepted his entire life. He had tamed his family's characteristically wild hair and wore it at a proper length in a fashionable pony tail. Everything he did was in pursuit of approval. In fact, it killed him staying in the Labyrinth as he was too embarrassed of it to entertain.

He thought of sharing his thoughts with his older brother as he opened the door to the bedroom where he lay, but knew that it would be a pointless endeavor. For one thing, Jareth knew almost by heart the speech he was about to give. And secondly, it wasn't as if his older brother could hear him.

According the Goblins, one night Jareth had gone into his chambers and never come out. None of them knew exactly what had happened and neither did anyone else. He simply lay asleep. He did not appear to be in any sort of pain, nor did he appear to be diminishing in power or vitality. He simply would not wake. It appeared that no foul magic had been used to put him in such a state, so no amount of magic could wake him. He slept on like a living stone, breathing deeply. It was unnerving to say the least. The only explanation could be that he had given up. It was well known that their kind, when grieved deeply enough, could lose the will to live and sleep until they wasted away.

Lot could not accept that that was the fate his older brother had chosen. No other fey he had ever come into contact with had such a zest for life. It was incongruous to say the least that the same brother he had watched excitedly tear holes between the fabric of worlds with his bare hands simply to 'crash frat parties' (whatever that meant) would choose to lay down and die. It made even less sense that the same fey that had such respect for life that he tamed the Labyrinth and turned it from a place of certain death for both man and fey alike to a place of only extreme frustration for runners would so easily surrender his own life. Jareth was the essence of life. He loved it. He gaveu nwanted children life in the only way he legally could.

"This can't be all because of that mortal girl can it?" Lot asked as he ran his fingertips along the edges of his brother's haphazard mane. While Jareth was unusually temperamental for a fey of his age and threw his fair share of tantrums in a variety of oft entertaining ways, that girl had done something else entirely to him. She had shattered him.

"I know that we all elect to die eventually, but I never imagined that you would." He said as he climbed in the bed beside his brother, like he used to do as a child when it would storm. He curled about him. "I don't understand." He sobbed quietly. He buried his head in the older fey's shoulder, not noticing when the hand on the other side of Jareth's body briefly wavered. It flickered like the image of a candle on a screen only to melt like wax against the coverlet. The palm regrouped first, only for the fingers to reassemble themselves. Smoke escaped the very tips of his lithe fingers and upon feeling smoke against his skin Lot arose with a jolt. He saw the grey smoke arising from his older brother's fingers and an unmatched gasp of horror escaped him.

"Please, not yet Jareth." He said sadly as he left the room. The smoke coiled about Jareth's hand in a serpentine pardoy of veins as Lot shut the door and started to walk away only to trip over something and fall. He cried in pain as whatever it was dug into his leg through his pants and left a large gash, but when he looked behind him nothing was there.

"Damnable goblins and their tricks!" He cried as he limped down the hall, ready to kick a few more of the little nuisances.

A fair sized orb, swirling inwardly with blood rolled after him.

* * *

hzlgrnLizzy: Thanks! And I actually haven't decided how involved Jareth is in all of the proceedings yet.

A and N: That's cool. Sleepaway camp is fun.

Saingirl101: Indeed we will. I'm actually pretty excited to see where this goes. I've never written anything like this before.

Mari Strange: Me too. 0_~

CoffeeKris: Nor have I, that's why I went for it. What kind of poetry do you write? I love poetry. I've tried to write some but I always end up thinking, "This would be so much better if I gave it a tune." And end up rearranging it into a song. Lol.

Veronica Pop: Thank you kindly!

Misplaced Soul: I actually totally blanked out on the other side. Thanks for bringing it up! Its inclusion has actually started some wheels turning in my mind and I'm going in a totally different direction now.

Aysuh: Jareth might not even be doing it. One of my major influences for this was Serial Experiments Lain so I plan on twisting this plot up like no other. Regardless of who is doing it I think I have the how the covered. It will be mind bottling.

AN: I saw Half Blood Prince at midnight this morning. I was actually really surprised by how good this one was. Aside from the last ten minutes, it was amazing. The directing was far more inventive, the castle looked amazing, the funny parts were hilarious, the scary parts were pretty damn scary, and Radcliffe's acting has improved ridiculously. Oh, and it thoroughly fed my cloak fetish. Watching Snape whip that thing around made my day. I love how apathetic he is. All though, they really screwed up the whole part where Snape assists Dumbledore with his own suicide. It was rushed as hell. This movie was the equivalent of two hours of foreplay only to find out that the guy you are with is impotent. It's like, they didn't realize that they have fucking ALAN RICKMAN on set who is FUCKING BRILLIANT and could simultaneously FUCKING KILL Dumbledore and an epic scene full of drama all at once. Alan Rickman was wasted and there is no excuse for that. And then in two movies I have to watch him die. Pity.


	9. Chapter 9

Despite the hour, Robert had driven recklessly to the asylum. Still shoeless, he walked through the front doors to find no one at the reception desk. Without another glance he made his way down the hall, took the elevator to the second floor, and walked to room 219, where he knew his daughter was. He needed to talk to her, and immediately. He was about to knock on her door when he felt two polite taps on his shoulder. With a jump he turned to face the demure-looking Dr. Palmer. His brown hair was neatly parted and he was just beginning to develop wrinkles on his perfectly ordinary looking face.

"Mr. Williams?" His voice was kind but he was obviously at a loss. "I hate to be a nudge, but visiting hours ended almost…four hours ago." He looked quickly at his watch and then back at his patients obviously perturbed father, who seemed too upset to form coherent statements. "Is there something you would like to discuss?" He asked quietly and Robert nodded. "I just locked up, but if it's urgent my office is this way." Dr. Palmer said and gestured toward the end of the hall. Robert only nodded again and followed the slightly shorter man to his office.

Dr. Palmer's office was just like the man himself. It was neat, ordinary, unassuming, and unremarkable. There were several diplomas on the wall adjacent to his desk. His desk was overtaken by piles of papers. The shelves which lined one wall of the small room were full of books and several small knick knacks he had collected over the years. The small TV which rested on a small table by the door was on. Robert watched as his daughter sat on a chair on the screen. Her bare toes dug into the carpet below her and her entire body was taut with tension. She looked both pained and terrified.

"Sarah, it's all right. Now that you have admitted to yourself what is wrong, we can at last start to slowly move forward-" Dr. Palmer's voice sounded from off camera and the scene on the TV screen abruptly began to waver. Robert didn't remember sitting down. He turned from the TV to Dr. Palmer, who sat calmly behind his desk, brandishing an ancient looking remote control at the small TV.

"Damn thing never works." He muttered good-naturedly as he started to lightly hit the remote against his desk. "I was actually reviewing your daughter's case before I left…"

Robert's attention was quickly ripped from Dr. Palmer's friendly speech as the remote in his hand quickly transformed into a small glass sphere.

"…we make tapes of every session in order to better assess the patient's needs…"

A gash was formed on Dr. Palmer's hand as if carved by an invisible blade. Robert watched through the glass surface of the sphere as the man's skin ripped and blood poured into the thing's apparently hollow center, almost as if the orb were drinking it. It drank deep.

"…she has been doing remarkably well…"

In what felt like hours but had only been mere seconds the blood-filled sphere was gone, the TV was off, and Dr. Palmer was placing the remote control back down on his desk. His hand bore a partially healed wound.

"Mr. Williams, what is it that you wanted to discuss?" Dr. Palmer asked placidly and Robert sighed. He knew that if he were to mention anything about what he had just seen he would be given a room next to his daughter. He struggled to regain control.

"It's just that…well…my ex-wife remembers Toby too."

"Excuse me?" Dr. Palmer frowned.

"I called my ex-wife, Sarah's birth mother, to tell her about what has been happening with Sarah and in the midst of conversation she asked how Toby was."

"Are she and Sarah close?" Dr. Palmer asked and Robert shook his head.

"She hasn't even sent the girl a birthday card in fifteen years."

"Are you sure that she wasn't making a simple mistake? Because, otherwise, you are implying that…that-"

"That Karen and I can't remember our own son, while a woman that doesn't even bother to remember her own daughter can?" Robert put his head in his hands. "God that sounded far less ridiculous in my head on the way over here." He sighed miserably and Dr. Palmer smiled through a yawn.

"Don't worry about it. It is often hard for parents to accept when their children are having troubles that they, themselves, cannot understand or help them out of."

Robert nodded, feeling slightly more at ease after the doctor's words.

"But we are doing the best we can for Sarah. She'll be well before you know it." Robert nearly smiled as he stood and prepared to shake Dr. Palmer's hand.

"I'm sorry for bothering you at such a ridiculous hour." He said and his feeling of happiness was destroyed as Dr. Palmer held out his wounded hand to shake. Robert shook it and began to leave the office, only to stop at the door. He turned to face the doctor.

"Just out of curiosity, how did you hurt your hand?" He asked as pleasantly as possible. He could tell by the look in Palmer's eyes that he had failed at sounding normal.

"Well, I…I…" Robert watched in horror as confusion and then annoyance sparked in his eyes, almost as if someone had fed him an answer. His seconds-long blank stare quickly became one of annoyed self-deprecation.

"Box cutter. I ordered some new books and was a bit overzealous upon opening them."

Robert could barely hide his appalled expression. "Goodnight Dr. Palmer, and thanks again." He barely managed evenly before exiting the doctor's office. He _had_ to talk to Sarah. He vowed to go and see her as soon as possible.

* * *

Misplaced Soul: Thank you kindly! When I saw it opening night there wasn't a huge crowd. There was a bit of a line but it wasn't too bad. Dark Knight had a bigger opening last summer. The whole movie was simplified. They cut out a lot of the meat of the story in order to replace it with jokes. The whole end was rushed because of it. All though, as a director, Yates really got his shit together on this one. YAY SNAPE!

LJ4wat: There might be actually. I haven't decided yet. And the whole end was more or less trashed so they could squeeze in more of Ron's ineptitude and cap it all off with an ending which I can swear I've seen in some form in 50 other movies. Hell, even Labyrinth ends with a bird flying off into the distance. And we probably are too critical, lol. I honestly am just insanely critical though. When it comes to attention to detail I could probably be legally labeled as having obsessive compulsive disorder. For example, I noticed in the Producers that when Bialystock is ringing for all of the little old ladies on one of the lables next to the intercom buttons it says "J Gatsby".

Mari Strange: I warn you, I'm contrary by nature…. And if you guys bother to share your thoughts/ reactions with me then the least I can do is bother to get back to you. Half the time I don't even write a sentence per person. I'm just happy people like the strange things that go on in my head enough to tell me so. Isn't Snape somehow strangely attractive? I could watch him stalk around all day…..

A/N: Hermione looks like Frankenfurter when she cries.


	10. Chapter 10

It was always the same nightmare. It was the same tint in a different shade, the same word with a different inflection. It was an unvarying myriad of mind-scattering tortures that had ceased to only afflict her in her in her sleep. At odd intervals during her supposed waking hours a skeletal hand would scuttle along her periphery or a cruel laugh would sound from an empty corner. Faces would morph. Sometimes they would become impossibly beautiful and other times impossibly frightening. Every single face was a dead slice of skin bolted fleetingly to an innocent. Another oblivious idiot that couldn't understand why she screamed.

How Doctor Palmer had managed to convince both himself and the rest of the world that she was improving she did not understand. She was running away from horrors that no one else could perceive on a daily basis. She had slept less and less as the nights wore on, prompting the nurses to start force feeding her sleeping pills. They were only making it worse. Now she could not wake from her nightmares. She was forced to sit and watch as the masqueraders adorned themselves cadaverous accoutrements, which they pulled from the muck oozing with decay. She was forced to lay incapacitated as they pinched and penetrated her with borrowed teeth and stiff, mismatched fingers.

"I've got to get out!" Sarah exclaimed aloud to herself as she felt her way along the wall of the Sanitarium. She knew that walls were liable to change at any minute. It had happened the last time she had nearly reached the door. She had opened it only to find herself deposited with a CRACK against the floor of her room. Her face had smacked against the ground with such momentum that she had knocked out a tooth. When she reached forward it jumped keenly out of her grasp. It scuttled away like a little bug and she crawled after it.

Putting Toby to bed was always an ordeal. The little guy always wanted her to hold his hand until he fell asleep and read her a story. She found that she didn't mind the responsibility that came with watching him and that she thoroughly enjoyed being needed. He loved how his eyes lit up every time he saw her. With a sigh she took out a loaf of bread from the breadbox. She knew that it wouldn't last forever. He was already three and soon he wouldn't need her anymore. Soon no one woul-

"Ello!"

Sarah turned toward the far wall, where she had heard the noise. She was so startled that she had dropped the half full loaf of wheat bread.

"Ello!" She heard again and turned toward the open bread box, where a strangely large and brightly colored worm reared a quite adorable head. He smiled and Sarah rubbed her eyes blearily. She must have been far more exhausted than she realized. Then again, the little guy did seem quite familiar.

"Come inside and meet the missus!" He said with a friendly smile and a jaunty little nod. "Have some tea."

Sarah was suddenly very thirsty. Now that she thought about it, tea sounded lovely. Without a thought she walked toward the bread box and poked her head inside only to find that possibly the most gorgeous man she had ever seen was sitting across from a large worm-like creature in a tasteful Victorian bonnet. Her presence did not go unnoticed. The man turned to her and the look in his inhumanly blue eyes was piercing enough to kill. His flaxen hair was bound tightly behind slightly pointed ears and his flawless skin was stretched over an almost effete face. His lips were thin but sharply contoured. They twisted into a grimace and then in utter shock. The unadulterated emotion on his face did not suit his polished and austere appearance.

"How!?" He snarled and suddenly Sarah knew who he reminded her of.

"Holy cow!" She remarked quietly to herself.

"Your Highness, I invited her in." The worm replied and Sarah's eyes left the man's face to the familiar amulet which lay on top of a black shirt, which was buttoned up to his neck. The pronged pendant had once lay against Jareth's naked skin. Then it hit Sarah. This other incredibly beautiful thing had taken Jareth's place. She had somehow reentered the Labyrinth through the breadbox on her kitchen counter, A Labyrinth which was no longer ruled by Jareth.

"Where's Jareth?" She asked and all at once the beautiful man turned his eyes to her. She licked her lips. What she wouldn't give for a piece of _that_…and a cigarette.

"But I don't smoke!" She thought aloud, completely bewildered by her own conflicting thoughts and why was the wall suddenly wet?

Familiar and foul swamp like water was trickling down the sanitarium walls.

"What happened to Jareth!?" She cried again as she ran through the murk, which was pooling about her ankles.

"You've killed him." Someone stated matter-of-factly and she collapsed, twitching and soaking wet in the midst of a perfectly dry hallway.

----------------------------------------------------

Lot cringed as he felt that tell-tale tingling between his shoulder blades. Before the worms could turn to their new king to ask what had happened he was gone with a howl and left nothing behind but a quickly dissipated tendril of smoke. He wondered if breeding had anything to do with the girl's innate ability to destroy his brother's plans.

"Those Fey are all always in such a hurry!" The Blue worm replied as he sat across from his wife and began to sip at a cup of tea. After a few minutes of quiet and drinking the pink worm let out a long-suffered sigh.

"And the girl didn't even touch her tea!" She exclaimed and both of the worms turned their heads to where she had stood. Faceted specks that glittered like diamonds were suspended in the air and slowly drifted toward the ground. Upon touching the floor they turned to dust, leaving the imprints of her feet behind.

"Well, I do say!" The little blue worm exclaimed. "I've never seen a thing like this in all my life!"

His wife sighed disinterestedly and returned to her tea.

* * *

hazelgrnLizzy: Thank you!

Mari Strange: It's more of a question of being polite then expecting every reviewer to leave me a deep psychoanalytical critique. If people review I respond because I appreciate the feedback. And I hope your very forgiving, as most of the chapters from here on out are going to b e a total tease. lol.

Raven1Star: Thanks. As I have a mouth like a drunk truck driver who just got cut off all of Sarah's usual Jeeze Louise's, Holy Guacamole's, and Forking Fiddlesticks's went right out of the window the second I got a hold of her. I just couldn't help myself.

CoffeeKris: This plot is on fucking steroids. And is any of your poetry up on line? It sounds like the kind of smart ass stuff that I'd really enjoy. And Snape really is not given enough screen time but I really feel as if 'The Rickman' has given up. I saw the movie a second time and once I got past how much I want to do some positively medieval things to him, I was really not impressed or even vaguely amused by his performance. And I am a HUGE Alan Rickman fan. It was rather depressing.


	11. Chapter 11

Robert hands shook as he finished dialing her number. Time zone difference or not, he didn't give a damn. Linda remembered Toby. Linda knew something, and he wasn't going to stop calling her until he figured out exactly what that something was. Something sinister was definitely happening to his little girl. With every day he became more and more certain of this.

"Hello?" It was an Englishman this time.

_Someone moves fast. _Robert wondered if he was the only American she ever dated.

"Hello, is DeLorian Marx, there?" He asked and there was a beat of silence.

"Who the devil is DeLorian Marx?" The man sounded perturbed and Robert rolled his eyes as he took out a list of all of the aliases Linda used that he knew of.

"Is Lydia Willits, Leda Welsh, Delilah Martre, Lynn—"

"Look, you arse, I don't know what you what you're playing—"

"It's Robert Williams. I'm her ex husband and calling about our daughter. I don't know what Linda is calling herself this week but I REALLY NEED to—"

"What is it Robert?" Linda at last answered. She sounded as if she were holding back tears.

"Linda, it's about—" He was interrupted by a loud hiss of pain from her end of the line. "Are you alright?"

"I _was_ fine until I fell out of bed coming to get the phone. Do you have any idea what time it is here?" She grumbled.

"I need to know what you know about Toby."

"Are you serious, Robert!? It's four in the morning and you're calling me to harangue me about children you've never had? Maybe you should check Sarah out and have yourself checked in!"

"I need to know about Toby."

"Do you have any idea of how ridiculous you're-"

"Tell me, Linda."

"Robert, I—"

"Everything. Right now!"

The sound of low whispering sounded from the other end.

"What is that _fucker_ saying to you!?" Robert cried and Linda let out a small cry as the phone was ripped from her hands.

"What did you just call me? You insolent little piece of mortal—"

Karen screamed as she entered the house to find Robert lying prone on the floor. The smell of burning flesh asphyxiated her as she moved closer to see the smooth plastic edges of the telephone poking through the grotesquely scabbed and stretched side of his head, completely covering his ear. Half of his hair had been burned away. Where plastic and skin converged smoke spiraled upwards.

---------------

Lot watched dispassionately as whatever her name was cried and screamed and flailed as she looked at the melted remains of her telephone. He stifled an inward curse as he felt the tell-tale tingling between his shoulder blades. At once time seemed to stop. Linda froze in mid cry, her hands in her hair and her mouth gaping tortured. She had the eyes of a corpse which had died while experiencing some unknown torment.

"It all started with you." He said angrily as he stalked across the wooden apartment floor toward her grotesquely still silent form. "I will never understand why my brother chooses to consort with you mortal _whores_!" He kicked her in the stomach. Hard. "And now it's taking his life!" He started to sob and at last the tingling ceased. With tears streaming down his face he then leant down, a crystal in hand and pressed it against her forearm. Blood was drawn and he disappeared in a cloud of glitter. Time resumed.

Linda fell to the ground, clutching her inexplicably pained stomach and holding her bleeding arm close to her body. She choked on glitter as the closet door opened and her boyfriend exited covered in glitter. Lines from the tight gag and ropes which had kept him silent and incapacitated spanned his face and encircled his wrists and ankles.

"DeLorian!" He cried and flew toward Linda as she sobbed. He knelt beside her.

"Did that bastard touch you?" He growled as he inspected her bleeding arm and pulled her into his lap. She only cried harder and buried her head in his chest. He wrapped his arms around her and his eyes traveled to the melted phone laying feet away on the floor.

"Jesus Christ!" He gasped and Linda's sobbing ceased somewhat.

"Dima," She whispered. "What have I done?"

* * *

raven1star: Lol. same. and there are a few more head trips coming.

Ifritblue: That's just my writing style. Some chapters are just really short.

Mari Strange: I appreciate your long ass reviews. lol. And I've always been curious about the missus myself. HBP was my favorite harry potter actually. I really liked the second one too, but I felt like this is was the first one in which radcliffe could actually act.

CoffeeKris: It's ok. None of my poetry is on line either. and I think you have just uncovered a CONSPIRACY!

LJ4wat: I'm more of a coffee kind of girl. It's basically what my diet consists of. And Lot is pretty fly.

Misplaced Soul: Playing people in general is my hobby. I bet you couldn't tell. lol.

hazlgrnLizzy: Thank you very much!

AN: How do you all feel about slash? YAY or NAY?


	12. Chapter 12

As Sarah looked at her father, his entire head wrapped in bandages, the machines which kept track of his vitals began to bleep uncontrollably.

"No!" She cried, unable to move as he thrashed and gasped like a fish caught on the end of a particularly unforgiving line. His body convulsed as if it was deformed. Karen cried for help and so did she. No one came.

As Sarah looked at her father, his entire head wrapped in bandages, the machines which kept track of his vitals began to bleep uncontrollably.

"No!" She cried, unable to move as he thrashed and gasped like a fish caught on the end of a particularly unforgiving line. His body convulsed as if it was deformed. Karen cried for help and so did she. No one came.

As Sarah looked at her father, his entire head wrapped in bandages, the machines which kept track of his vitals began to bleep uncontrollably.

"No!" She cried, unable to move as he thrashed and gasped like a fish caught on the end of a particularly unforgiving line. His body convulsed as if it was deformed. Karen cried for help and so did she. No one came.

As Sarah--

"STOP!" Sarah cried and the tableau of death began to shatter piece by piece around her. "I can't take this anymore!" She screamed at the blank wall of her room in the sanitarium, which was revealed behind each shattered piece of the hospital. The shards of her father's death fell against the floor where they cracked. Some sliced through her skin. "Please!" She called as she tried to squeeze her face through a small crack in the door. "I'll do whatever you say! Whatever you want!" She fell to the floor, not coherent enough to notice new cuts so deep that you could almost see her bones. She did not feel her butchered muscles as blood poured out of her. "JUST MAKE IT STOP!"

"Oh my god!" Dr. Palmer cried as he entered Sarah's room. He had been alerted to her tantrum, but he had not been warned of this. She was pale as death where she was not coated in ghastly red blood. It seemed to spring out of her and onto the floor.

"YOU WIN!" She cried to no one in particular and Dr. Palmer inched toward her the way one would inch toward a feral beast. She screamed as one of his eyes flashed blue and for an instant.

"You bastard." She growled before falling to her knees and starting to pound her fist against the floor. Her resignation seemed to hang in the very air. The atmosphere had changed. Something had been lifted. Dr. Palmer only looked hurt.

"Sarah?" He asked softly, the edges of his hair practically static with the unprecendented shift as she continued to scream. He abruptly called for nurses. She needed to be taken to the hospital immediately. He watched with wide eyes as she was sedated and taken away on a stretcher.

"Sarah." He said softly once the nurses had disappeared and knelt down beside a small pool of her blood. He pressed two of his fingers in it and with a quick glance to make sure he was alone pressed the ensanguined digits to his lips and against his tongue. He moaned.

* * *

mena8384: Thanks man.

Veronica Pop: ^^

LJ4wat: I might be able to slide in some OC action.....just for you! And it does make you a sadist, but it also means that you've come to the right place, and are reading the right person's stuff.

hazlgrnlizzy: Thank you kindly.

MS: Don't worry. I don't judge. Haven't been grateful a day in my life. And yes, this whole thing is more or less entirely ridiculous. Thank you for noticing. Bowie certainly used to get around. lol.

AN: Love the song La Loba by Shakira. The english version is crap. So, don't bother with it. Get the Spanish one. Dont watch the video either. It's flat out retarded. They managed to put one of the sexiest women on the planet in something unflattering. (I mean, and up until this point I didn't think it was possible to make Shakira look bad in an outfit) and gave her dance moves to do that resembled an epileptic seizure more than anything even remotely artistic. It was quite depressing.


	13. Chapter 13

Sarah did not know how exactly she knew, but she was fully aware of everything that had happened to what remained of her poor family. Even what had happened to Linda. All she had, had to do was touch her father's hand (she had walked there from her own room late in the night) and all of his emotions; all the pain he had felt because of her hit him in waves. All of his misery and fear and confusion. She started to tear up when suddenly she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned with a scream to face a sadly smiling Dr. Palmer.

"I thought I might find you here." He said. His common brown eyes were full of poignant warmth.

"What are you doing here?" Sarah asked quietly and he sighed.

"Karen stopped by and gave me an old book of yours. Told me to give it to you, thought it would comfort you. Since I pass the hospital on my way home anyway, I figured I would stop by and leave it for you. Needless to say, I was rather alarmed to find you not in your bed and if I hadn't found you here I would have had to alert the hospital staff. I just wanted to make certain that you were safe without causing a fuss."

Sarah wanted to yell and scream and curse at him like she usually did, but she was so emotionally raw that she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Why do you go so far out of your way for me?" Sarah asked at last and Dr. Palmer looked confused briefly, as if not even he was quite sure of the reason or not willing to admit that he was.

"I try my best to help all of my patients." He said at last. "It's why I became a doctor." Sarah shook her head. He hadn't moved his hand from her shoulder since entering the room. "However, I really must insist that you go back to your room now. It's late. You shouldn't be up at all. It's a miracle that you can move at all after what happened." He said and Sarah slowly removed his hand from her shoulder.

"I'm stronger than I look." She replied and headed out of the room. "Good night doctor." She said pleasantly before disappearing and after ascertaining that she was headed in the right direction he headed in the opposite direction, toward his own car.

Sarah entered her room only to nearly collapse against the door frame. Sitting on her bed, was the little red book she remembered so well. It was opened to a page and she could read the exact heading from across the room. It read:

_**The Fate of the Labyrinth's Conqueror **_

_In the entire history of the labyrinth nearly seven hundred mortals have attempted to conquer it. Seven have succeeded: Thutmose of Thebes, Brynhildr Kettilsdotter, Caderyn Son of Brennus, Fedelmid Daughter of Vercingetorix, Baraz of Persia, Lucia De Marvano, and Sarah Williams. _

_As the conqueror has proved to be the equal of both the King and his Kingdom, each shall grant the victor one wish. While the Labyrinth will return whatever has been stolen in order to maintain its own equilibrium, it is the duty of the reigning ruler to bestow this final wish upon the victor. Should either the bestowed or bestower not graciously adhere to this simple rule the balance will be broken and each shall suffer severe consequences until it is restored. _

_The victor is free to leave once his wishes are granted, however, had he partaken in any of the food or drink of the fey he will return to his own world to lead a life- _

Sarah abruptly turned the page to find it blank. She skimmed through the rest of the book on both sides of the page to find every last one white. "What kind of life!?" She cried and dropped the book. I have to find Jar…" She looked at the little red book, memories filling her to the brim as she looked toward the window in her little white room. It was then that she remembered the encounter with the new Goblin king in the worm's house. She paled. _Had Jareth died? Was it too late? _

"I wish that the Goblins would come and take me away right now!" She intoned, pouring all of her desperation into her words. The lights in her room flickered before going out entirely. The floor began to shake.

* * *

CoffeeKris: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

hazlgrnLizzy: Just you wait....

MS: *strokes proverbial beard*

curly-kitty: Kind of like Murnau's Nosferatu fried in cake batter......

Veronica Pop: Everything will be either explained or implied by the end. No worries. ^^

Aysuh: Thank you! I'm actually using this as an excersize before I start my next novel, so it's good to know that what I'm doing is working. And Dr. Palmer IS the real slim shady.

AN: I once had this hallucination in math class which was this whole Joker fanvid to the song "The Real Slim Shady." It was pretty awesome.


	14. Chapter 14

The Goblins were as obnoxious and unattractive as Sarah remembered. Without preamble they grabbed her and before Sarah could blink she was standing in a familiar austere and dusty hall in a familiar castle. Her little white room had melted away into nothing and the book which she remembered so fondly was gone. The Goblins dispersed and suddenly she found herself standing before the throne of the man she remembered from the worm's house. He was wearing the pendant and his eyes were savage and cold.

"Where is Jareth?" She asked and those arresting cerulean eyes seemed to stab at her.

"On death's door." He intoned. "Are mortals so helpless that they cannot grasp the concept of reading a book? It took you long enough." He sneered angrily. "Or did you hope to wait until he really was dead."

Sarah breathed deeply and her eyes narrowed. "Take me to him. Now." She ordered coolly and the new king looked entirely enraged, however he still did not move a muscle.

"Even if I do, he will not be able to grant your-"

"Now!" She cried. Lot scowled.

"You would do well to remember to treat your betters with some respect. Or do you need to be reacquainted with the extent of our power?" He sneered and Sarah bowed her head.

"Your Highness," she began far more politely but with a definite edge to her voice, "May I visit with the-"

Before she could blink she was standing before the bed of an emaciated and grey Jareth. It nearly put her to tears; the cadaverous thing left rotting in the bed an insult to the beauty and power she remembered. Though she had never particularly liked or considered Jareth beyond a brief 'Damn, he was really hot. Shouldda done him while I had the chance' since her previous foray in the Labyrinth pity tugged at her heart strings. She knelt beside his bed, not daring to touch him.

"Jareth?" She whispered and his darker eye fluttered open. He started to mumble incoherently and frantically. The words she had read earlier seemed to reverberate from the very walls.

_Should either the bestowed or bestower not graciously adhere to this simple rule the balance will be broken and each shall suffer severe consequences until it is restored. _

From the looks of the previous goblin king Sarah could definitely believe that he had been suffering as she had been. He continued to mumble and howl.

"Jareth." She began softly, reaching out for his long fingered and skeletal hand. He seemed to come awake from his terror with a jolt the second she touched him. He looked at her with severely dulled mismatched eyes.

"It's really me. I promise." She said softly and his fingers closed weakly about her own.

"I never meant…It's just that I…I…"

"You wanted me." Sarah interjected on a tiny knowing breath and Jareth looked ashamed. It was only then that the true depth of his condition hit Sarah. He was stripped of all dignity and inhibition, the way that only a dying man would be. He no longer cared if she was awed or impressed by him. It no longer mattered to him whether she feared him or not.

"Yes." He answered and laboriously maneuvered her hand toward his nonexistent lips. "And with my judgment clouded, I scared you off before I could explain what needed to be done." He said and barely managed to kiss her hand before dropping it.

"Is it too late?" She asked as she slowly withdrew her hand from his cadaverous chest, one of her fingers nearly fitting in the hollows between his bones.

"No." He said with a grateful smile and suddenly fear overtook him. Sarah could recognize the look in his eyes. She had just watched her own father die.

"No!" She cried out, her hand nearly snapping his own in two. "You have to grant the wish! You have to fix this! You have—"

"He had fallen in love with the girl and had granted her cert…" As his words died on his lips his eyes shifted and then changed. They were the scared brown doe eyes of a sandy haired little boy.

"Toby…?" She murmured and suddenly felt a sharp pain in the back of her head. Darkness quickly overtook her. The last thing she saw was a red-faced and furious Lot screaming like a banshee as Jareth's entire body began to crumble upon itself, wreathed in asphyxiating smoke.

* * *

MS: Maybe I _am _kidding you. I've always had a strange sense of humor.

Aysuh: Oh yeah, we reach a whole new level of dark. I mean, it's not bad at all compared to some of my other stuff, but for this fandom it's D.A.R.K.

Curly-kitty: Dr. Palmer is the BOSS. Straight up. He chops off his balls and dies every day.

CoffeeKris: It's actually the beginning of the resurrection of the Electric Light Orchestra. The Goblins just came to spike the punch. Just call it a sort of Holy Palmer's Kiss I guess.

Misplaced Soul: Thanks! I love your penname by the way.

hazlgrnlizzy: Idk man. I just write it. I'm beyond thrilled that it made you think though.

A/N: There is a House down in New Orleans. They Call the rising Sun. And it's been the ruin of many a poor girl. And me, oh god I'm one.


	15. Chapter 15

Dr. Palmer had been packing up his briefcase when he was suddenly pinned against his desk. Before he could respond a familiar tongue filled his mouth and familiar, lithe hands were pulling him into a taut lap sporting a proud erection.

"Missed me, you little slut?" He drawled as he dug his weathered and stubby fingers into the wild mane of blonde hair before him. When he removed his hands from their tangling in order to roughly pull the other's neck to the side so he could sink in his teeth they were smooth, beautiful, and youthful.

"So it would seem, you big slut." Lot returned playfully in between gasps as the teeth which nipped at his sensitive skin lengthened and sharpened.

"That's _King _slut to you, little brother." As Jareth lifted his head it was again golden and fair, with mystifying eyes and sharp tantalizing angles. He quickly flipped Lot over so he was kneeling over the desk with his ass pointed in the air and his hands pinned behind his back. Jareth teasingly rutted against him. He pressed his full length against him as he pulled his younger brother's head back by the hair. "Tell me," He began, breathing against the pointed ear before him. "Is she sleeping?"

All of the ecstasy drained from Lot's expression. "Yes." He muttered with a sizable pout.

"Where?"

"In the Queen's suite. Your doppelganger started changing earlier than we had anticipated and I had to knock her out before she saw too much. I Think I gave her a concussion."

"Excellent." Jareth hissed and promptly began to wrap his long tongue around his younger brother's pointed ear. He moved his hand beneath Lot while the other kept his head held back by the hair. He stroked him until he was a writhing, panting mess.

"You will be well compensated for your troubles." He hissed and rose in one swift motion, his hair floating about him.

"Can't I be compensated now?" Lot whined and Jareth backhanded him across the ass with a considerable fraction of his preternatural strength. The sound rang throughout the room and Lot let out a gasp.

"Once her dream is over I will come to you. For you. _In_ _you._ Stay here." Jareth growled and ropes wrapped themselves around lot and to the desk. He was bound in an immensely unfortunate state. All at once Jareth was Dr. Palmer again and as he shut the door it became what it always had been and really was; a supply closet. Lot found himself bound to a crate of bleach in the near dark.

Sarah wept in her hospital bed. She could not tell what was real and what was not. She did not know if what she had just seen actually happened but she could not be sure that it had not. She could not even be certain if her present was reality. She put her head in her hands.

"I can't keep living like this!" She bellowed. She was so distraught that she did not hear the door open. Suddenly there was a pair of gloved hands on her shoulders. She turned her head to find a hale, whole, and devastatingly beautiful Jareth standing before her.

"Jareth!" She exclaimed and wrapped her arms around him. She had never been so relieved to see someone in her entire life.

"I'm happy to see you too, love." He said softly before breaking their embrace. His expression turned incredibly somber. "There isn't much time. Before you make your wish and right this whole mess, there are three things which I need you must know. He took her hands in his suddenly ungloved and inhumanly soft ones.

"Firstly, you have been touched by the Labyrinth's magic, by Fey magic. It has both polluted and perfected you. You are no longer a natural part of your world. You have become an anomaly and a threat to its precarious balance. This reality is rejecting you. It is only a matter of time before it gets rid of you entirely. You cannot stay here."

Sarah looked utterly horrified.

"Secondly, your wish has immense power. With it you can save Toby's life, your father's happiness and sanity, and Karen from losing the only child she will ever have. You can save your own sanity. You can save…me." He finished softly. Sarah took her bottom lip between her teeth. Jareth gently took her face in his hands.

"And I know that you must be afraid, but there is nothing to fear. Your family will be saved, and in the Underground I will care for you, always. These horrible delusions will not be able to reach you there."

Sarah thought long and hard before turning her eyes back up at Jareth. "I am ready to make my wish." She said quietly and he enfolded her in his arms. Then and there, Sarah Williams used her right words.

* * *

LJ4Wat: I was inspired. :)

Charm Shadow: MWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAAAAA.........nah, I didn't. Maybe later.

CoffeeKris: Maybe fat hairy men in bikinis turn me on.

curly-kitty: will you marry me?

hazlgrnLizzy: Thank you kindly.

AN: I was up until 3 am this morning making a Dark Knight Parody on windows movie maker. I feel like a loser, but it was so damn entertaining. It also helped me come to the realization that I want to wear a purple suit and top hat to prom.


	16. Chapter 16

Lot was seething and furious by the time Jareth returned. His anger grew even more when his older brother walked into the supply closet with his nose in a book and did not even regard him. He sat with hapless grace in a chair that formed as he sat and propped his legs up on top of his bound brother as if he were a mere extension of the box.

"This false Labyrinth book—quite a bit of grand sorcery on your part. Love how it leaves out everything important."

"Glad, you are so impressed." Lot seethed and Jareth let out a short chuckle.

"Come now brother, don't be so sore. That's what tomorrow morning's for." He rose one eyebrow suggestively and Lot grumbled dourly.

"Here? Better now?" Jareth said as the supply closet melted away and Jareth's old grand bedroom materialized about them. While lot was happy to be out of the dank cupboard, he still was tied to a crate of bleach.

"Did you collect the doppelganger?" Jareth asked and Lot growled.

"Yes. It's right there. On the bed. Where you told me to leave it."

In the royal bed, amidst a coverlet made of thick red material richer and softer than any found on earth, rested the young Toby Williams. The last vestiges of the Goblin King's shrunken and sickly façade were slowly fading away. He was almost a boy again. Jareth tapped his forehead and he quickly disappeared.

"Where did you send him?"

"Home." Jareth smirked. "After all! If I don't fulfill my end of the bargain and grant her wish the fabric of time and space as we know it will split in two!" He cried dramatically and covered his eyes with the back of his hand. Lot shook his head.

"Is that really what you told her?"

"More or less. I told her that her reality was rejecting her."

"Wow, and she bought that?"

"Indeed."

"Can reality even do that?"

Jareth shrugged languidly and started to admire the curves of his brother's taut buttocks and legs, which were pulled apart against the side of the crate. "As far as I am aware rejection of reality is a one way street. It can be rejected but it neither acknowledges nor rejects of its own volition. It is not such a simple thing."

He then started to lightly drag his fingertips along the fabric-clad skin before him, his fingertips sinking seamlessly through to brush against skin.

"Why would you want someone that insipid as one of your bedmates?"

"She's not insipid. I paid a sorcerer to cast a spell on her which would cause her deepest fears to combine and shift and replay for her exactly every six hours until she would readily submit. She has been under this enchantment for nearly four months. Remember what happened to you after I paid for this spell to be cast on you?"

Lot shuddered. "But, why her? You've gone to a supremely ridiculous amount of trouble not only procuring her, but in order to keep father ignorant of it."

Jareth's lips spread in a dark grin of triumph. "As my only living daughter, she will birth for me pure-blooded heirs of immense and terrible—"

Jareth stopped speaking as he felt the tell tale tingling between his shoulder blades which spoke of their father's ever watchful eye. Jareth smirked and stalked toward Lot before starting to savagely backhand him again and again across the behind. The second the tingling dissipated so did Jareth's anger and he began to magically soothe the damage he had caused with practiced strokes.

"…power. And as my only living daughter, I don't want _anyone_ else to lay a hand on her." He finished lowly and Lot was abruptly untied and stretched out on the bed. The second he started to heal himself of all stiffness Jareth roughly grabbed him by the hair and jarred him out of it. "Allow me." He said and Lot's clothing and the length of material which had held his hair back disappeared. Jareth's deft fingers began to massage every last bit of discomfort from his chest and shoulders.

"Tomorrow you will have to leave." He said as he worked his way down one of his brother's arms, to his hands, and at last fingers. "I will need some time to acquaint myself with my new wife. I will have to propose within the week. I'll tell her that it's the only way she can safely stay here. Our wedding will be within the month. Expect an invitation soon."

Lot looked hurt but nodded as one of his fingers disappeared into Jareth's mouth and his tongue swirled about the tip of the digit languidly.

"After all, how long do you think she'll last down here? Despite her blood? Three? Four? Five hundred years?" Lot asked and Jareth shrugged.

"And her youth not even half of that." He returned matter-of-factly before returning to his brother's fingers. Lot sighed. It would not be easy and he would not enjoy it, but he could wait.

* * *

Misplaced Soul: Yeah, I grew up on Harry Potter Fanfiction. We like incest over there. It's practically how we say hello.

OokamiMomo: Nah, usually people respond to my work like that. I really want to see The Man Who Fell to Earth. It's on my Netflix. Bowie is just divine.

Charm Shadow: Very Dirty ;) And it comes from my mind, where generally what goes on is worse than this. I once wrote a fanfiction that apparently made a person physically ill.

Curly-kitty: I don't do girl power. Sorry. The feminists killed it for me.

Princess of the Fae: Dude, I know it's wrong. No worries.

hazlgrinLizzy: Fanx!!!

Mari Strange: Lol.

CoffeeKris: I actually like adorkable. I've got a BAD adorkable fetish. I also just like to use the word.

AN: I don't know whether this is the end or not. I can't decide. Just incase it is, I want to thank all of my readers, favoriters, and reviewers. I love you guys. I'll probably be doing some shameless porn for The Persian Rug and maybe some Doctor Who fanfiction in the future. I don't know. Depends on what I feel like. I'm working on the sequal to my Harry Potter fic right now, so check that out if you go that way. There might be an epilogue to this if I can get my head around what to do with it. I want it to be as good for you as it is for me.

,Thanks again my lovlies.

L's-A


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